Why Is Tim the Only One With Any Tact?
by CamsthiSky
Summary: "Hiding? Tim wasn't hiding anything. It was more like not telling. Best not to get anyone else involved in Dick's business if it wasn't going to help, and telling Wally, with whatever problems he and Dick were having, was probably the definition of not helping. "Nothing," Tim said in the most convincing voice he had. Which, if this was Dick, wouldn't have worked even a little bit.


"Where's Dick?"

Tim looked up from his homework, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he saw who it was. Wally, who _really_ should not be anywhere near Gotham right now, was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking uncomfortable and altogether out of place. Which. You know. He was.

Wally's death hadn't been kind to Dick. He had already thought all of his friends hated him for the decisions he'd made, and when Wally had died, Dick had broken down from the stress of leading the team, taking care of Gotham, faking Artemis' death, sending Kaldur undercover, and dealing with an alien invasion.

Even when Wally had been found, things didn't change. The two had been best friends, but to Tim's knowledge, they rarely even talked anymore.

So yeah, it was weird to see Wally standing in the kitchen like that was a normal thing. It was even weirder that Tim hadn't noticed the guy come in. When-not if, never if-Batman caught wind of that, Tim was going to have to go through extra awareness training.

Wally raised an eyebrow at him, and Tim realized that Wally was still waiting for an answer. Whoops. Maybe he needed some coffee, 'cause he was really off his game today.

"Right. Dick. He's, uh, still sleeping, I think," Tim said, turning back to his calculus homework. Was it rude that he kind of wanted Wally to leave?

"He's sleeping." Wally's voice was flat. "At four in the afternoon."

Tim winced, not bothering to look back up at Wally again. He kept a careful eye on the problem he was pencilling away at. "He's tired."

"Tired," Wally said, his expression souring.

Somehow, Tim kept his mouth shut. But just barely. He didn't have a lot of patience for Wally lately, or any of Dick's friends, really. Not when they wouldn't reach out to Dick. Sure Dick was sort of isolating himself at the moment, but Tim thought that they could at least try a little harder.

Tim was trying his best, but whether he admitted it or not, he was a fourteen year old _kid_ , and, despite how much he wished it were otherwise, he wasn't sure what he was _supposed_ to do. It wasn't like he could manhandle Dick into taking care of himself.

" _I need a break from the team for a little while,"_ Dick had said to Tim a couple nights after Batman and the League's return, after Wally's death. " _Just until I can get used to...you know. I need some space from everyone until then."_

And Tim had said, " _Even me?"_ with a hurt expression that he regretted the moment Dick's face had crumpled. Of course, zero point two seconds later, he'd plastered on a fake smile to reassure Tim.

" _I'll still come visit you and Bruce, Timmers, but I can't…. Leading the team isn't something I can do right now. And being around everyone else, I just...I need a break."_

The shadows underneath Dick Grayson's eyes had been growing by the minute, so Tim hadn't argued. He'd accepted it, and sure enough, the Fourth of July, the day the Reach left Earth, Dick left the team. Except, Dick's break had only lasted about a week before he was called back to Gotham for an emergency.

Well. An "emergency."

Batman was needed off world (or off-dimension, or something like that. Tim couldn't figure out the details, no matter how much he'd snooped). And Bruce, in typical Bruce fashion, had sent Dick a text, asking him to watch over Gotham while he was gone, knowing what the answer would be, because the answer could never be no.

Bruce was gone before Dick could even send a reply. Even when B gave them a choice, it wasn't ever really a choice.

So, Dick came back, donned the cowl, and stayed in the Manor with Tim and Alfred. He patrolled Gotham with Tim, drove an hour to Blüdhaven to patrol as Nightwing, and immersed himself in case after case. Tim could only watch as Dick Grayson, his huggable ever smiling big brother, retreated into himself, became a shell of himself. And everything Tim tried to do to help him didn't work. He did what he could as Robin, fighting alongside Batman, but it never seemed like enough.

That went on for about two months before Tim and Dick got the news. The League had found Wally trapped in the Speed Force, and while Tim had been fascinated with the subject at the time, there hadn't been enough time to get the facts before he and Dick were going after the Joker again. And after that, he found that it didn't really matter anymore. Wally wasn't dead anymore, and it should have been great.

And yet, nothing changed. Dick, being occupied with the Joker, hadn't had time to meet up with his long lost best friend, and, as far as Tim knew, Wally hadn't tried much to contact Dick.

Fast forward a couple weeks later, and here they were. Tim pretending he was interested in homework, Wally scowling at him in the Manor kitchen, and Dick asleep upstairs after pulling two all-nighters.

"Are you going to say anything?" Wally asked, pulling Tim from his thoughts.

"Here's the thing," Tim sighed, putting down his pencil and turning to face the speedster. Tim didn't really know what it was that had made Dick and Wally such great friends, but whatever it was, it wasn't there now. So, he was going to be blunt, and Wally was going to get out of his face before things spiralled out of control. Tim was 110 percent Dick could not handle this right now. "It hasn't exactly been sunshine and rainbows around here. I've got homework, and Dick's asleep. Come back later."

 _Or not at all._

"I'm going to check on him," Wally said, completely ignoring Tim's order—and yeah, okay. So he wasn't Batman, he couldn't stop people in their tracks with a glare, or make them obey an order, but he'd like to think that Wally could take a hint. He guessed he was wrong about that one—and turning to walk out of the room.

"You can't!" Tim shouted, doing an impressive leap from the chair to the door that Dick would have been proud of. He slid in front of Wally and held his arms out. It wouldn't stop super speed, but there were still a few stray smoke bombs in Tim's front pocket, and despite what Alfred would say if he caught wind of it happening, Tim wasn't afraid to use them.

There was no need, though. Wally startled to a stop, not even trying to make it past Tim. "What? Why not?"

"I _just_ convinced him to-" Tim cut himself off, dropping his arms and sighing. "Look, just, if you try and check on Dick, he's going to wake up. You know what he's like."

Wally didn't look convinced. "What are you hiding?"

Hiding? Tim wasn't hiding anything. It was more like not telling. Best not to get anyone else involved in Dick's business if it wasn't going to help, and telling Wally, with whatever problems he and Dick were having, was probably the definition of not helping.

"Nothing," Tim said in the most convincing voice he had. Which, if this was Dick, wouldn't have worked even a little bit. But this was Wally, and while Wally may have been Dick's best friend once upon a time, he didn't know anything about Tim. "It's just been a rough couple of nights in Gotham."

"I saw the news," Wally said, eyes flicking over Tim's shoulder for a brief second that had Tim thinking that Wally, usually so distractible, really only had Dick on his mind. "Arkham breakout, right? That's why I'm here. I figured you three could use some help, especially if Dick's hurt, or-"

"He's not hurt," Tim said, frowning. He was starting to see the picture that was forming, starting to get what went wrong where, and he really didn't like what he was seeing. Because Wally said _three_ , like he didn't know Bruce wasn't here.

Not good. That meant Wally was jumping to conclusions and Dick wasn't correcting them (if he knew, and let's be honest-Dick wasn't Batman, but he _was_ trained by Batman. It was more than likely he knew), and what _that_ meant, Tim had no idea, but whatever it was it wasn't anything good.

Not the least bit helpful indeed.

Wally's expression crumbled into some odd combination of anger, disappointment, and relief, and Tim didn't know what to make of it. "If he's not hurt, then why isn't he out there _doing_ something?"

"Who says he isn't?" Tim challenged.

"Don't lie to me, Tim. Artemis told me Nightwing hasn't been seen in over a week. I came over here because Dick would have to be on his deathbed not be out there saving his damn city. He said he was taking a break, not abandoning his family!"

Tim took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. No matter the circumstance, it wasn't good if he lost his temper now. Wally was already angry enough for the both of them, and if Tim lost it now, Dick might not ever be able to patch up his relationship with Wally, even if he wanted to.

"Okay, first of all," Tim started, because the kitchen had been silent a beat too long, and even if he really didn't want to have this conversation, this wouldn't go away just because he ignored it, despite what Bruce liked to think, "you're ignoring a very important rule. Always have the facts before you dive head first into anything."

"You bats and your rules!" Wally looked like he wanted to punch something. "Besides, I'm here to _get_ the facts!"

"No, you're here to see if you were right. Two very different things," Tim told him. "Second of all, Dick's not abandoning anybody. Just because Nightwing hasn't been seen in a little while doesn't mean he isn't doing what he can. He's got a lot on his plate."

This didn't really satisfy Wally. "I don't believe for a second that six months ago Nightwing wouldn't have been out there with Robin and Batman! Whatever he's doing needs to _stop._ "

"You don't know anything about what's been going on with him," Tim hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously as the hold on his temper slipped. "And if you would stop being an _ass_ for more than _two seconds-_ "

"Tim, that's enough."

Tim flinched at his brother's exhausted voice, and peered warily past Wally to look at Dick. He was obviously tired, probably just having gotten out of bed, but he was leaning against the archway to the dining room with his arms crossed over his chest like he'd been there the entire time, those bright blue eyes taking everything in-body language, expressions, surroundings.

They must have been making too much noise, and Dick had woken up to see what the commotion was about. He looked so tired.

Tim cringed. "Dick, I-"

"Stop," Dick said, his voice quiet, resigned. Tim clicked his mouth shut. "Just, please stop, Tim. I don't need someone to fight my battles for me."

Yeah, but if Tim didn't do it, then _no one_ would. Dick had zero support right now besides Tim and Alfred, and sometimes Tim thought that it just wasn't going to be enough if Dick wouldn't fight for himself, if he let the exhaustion and stress still clearly written on his face, pull him under without a struggle.

But Tim couldn't make himself call Dick out on it. So instead, Tim just said, "Right. Sorry."

Wally looked about ready to explode, obviously not reading the signs that Tim was. The sad thing was, if this had been two years earlier, Wally would have probably have picked up on Dick's stress before even Tim.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Wally demanded, his anger turning away from Tim and towards Dick, exactly where Tim _hadn't_ wanted it.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific," Dick said, not a drop of humor in his voice. "Physically, mentally, or emotionally?"

"I'm talking about _Nightwing."_

"Well, I'm not," Dick said rather matter of factly. "So have fun having a conversation with yourself."

Wally scowled, stepping forward. "Will you take this seriously?!"

"Oh, I am," Dick said, still no hint of a smile on his face. "I am very seriously not talking about Nightwing. Anything else, Wally. How's Artemis? How's college? How's being alive again?"

" _Dick-"_

"I heard that you were able to get your scholarship back. Even after being legally dead for two months."

"I'm trying to-"

"And I know Artemis is looking into switching majors. Has she decided on one yet?"

" _Dick!"_

Dick uncrossed his arms and stood up straight, but he was really slow about it. Tim knew that Dick was still feeling the effects of sleep deprivation. It didn't look like Dick was going to try to go back to sleep again with Wally here. Tim was right. Dick really couldn't handle this right now, couldn't handle _Wally_ right now. Wally closed in on Dick until there was only a few feet of space between them.

Tim wanted to get between them, to push Wally back, but Dick had told him he didn't need Tim to fight his battles for him, so he stayed where he was and watched as things unfolded right before his eyes.

"What, Wally. What do you want?" Dick asked.

Tim winced, reaching out a tentative hand toward the two. This was probably going to get ugly. "Guys, don't-"

"I want to know where you've _been!"_ Wally cried over Tim's voice.

"I've been _here,_ " Dick said, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Batman gave me Gotham and then _left_ , and I've been here, trying my best to keep Gotham and Blüdhaven from collapsing without Bruce. I've had to juggle both cities, and believe it or not, I'm barely keeping up, even with Tim's help."

The look on Dick's face reminded Tim that sometimes he _hated_ Bruce Wayne. Dick was beyond stretched thin, and Bruce had been gone pretty much all year. He left Dick to endless nights of patrol hidden underneath a cowl and a cape too heavy for his shoulders.

The look on _Wally's_ face, though. That was a different story. The guy looked like he'd just been slapped, told that up was sideways, and down didn't exist anymore. It was so... _odd._ Tim had expected Wally to looked cowed when he was finally told the truth, not _angry._ Not _devastated._ Not _betrayed._ It didn't make sense to Tim.

But it must have to Dick, because Dick just looked resigned and tired, like he'd been expecting this the moment he realized Wally was in the Manor.

There was something that Tim was missing here. Some vital information that he wasn't privy to.

"How long has Batman been gone?" Wally finally asked, breaking the silence. "How long have you had to…?"

When Dick wasn't forthcoming with an answer, Tim figured it was high time he stepped in. Maybe he could diffuse the situation, but first he needed to figure out what exactly he was missing. "Bruce left almost three months ago for on off world mission. He's contacted us a few times, but we don't know when he's coming back."

Wally turned to Dick. "And you didn't tell me?!"

Dick shrugged, not meeting the speedster's blazing eyes. "You didn't ask."

"I shouldn't have to!"

"Look, Wally," Dick said, his shoulders still tense, "I get that things have been hard for you. I get that coming back from being dead hasn't been easy, and I get that you don't really want me in the picture. I don't blame you. _But,"_ Dick growled when Wally opened his mouth to talk again, "I gave you exactly what you wanted, so I don't need you butting into this like you know what _I'm_ dealing with."

Wally's face turned as red as his hair. "You're _kidding me_ , right?! I _don't know?!_ You're the one who told me that you never wanted this! You told me what it felt like to live under the Batman's shadow!"

"I didn't exactly have a choice!" Dick yelled. "This past year has been _hell,_ Wally! Without Batman, Gotham barely functions, and I couldn't just _leave_ Blüdhaven! We've been stretched thin since _January_ , and I've barely been able to keep up! I couldn't just _not_ do this!"

Tim got where Wally was coming from, he really did, but this wasn't the way to go about this. Screaming in Dick's face was just going to put him on the defensive, push him towards somewhere he didn't want to be.

At the same time, Tim got what Dick was saying. Because it was _Gotham,_ and without Batman, Gotham didn't stand a chance. With the threat of riots on Dick's shoulders, sitting just as heavily on his shoulders as the cape did, Dick didn't stand a chance. They couldn't just let Batman disappear from Gotham without a trace.

Tim just wished Dick hadn't decided to _become_ Batman.

"Wait, wait, wait," Wally shook his head. "Did you just say January? As in _ten months ago?_ What does that have to do with this?"

Dick turned his head away from Wally, clearly avoiding his gaze. His jaw was set, and Tim was starting to see what was going on here. Dick had told Wally he didn't want to be Batman, then we he had to for Bruce, Dick hadn't told Wally. And now Wally was angry. But this had gone on long enough, and Dick looked like he wanted to hide under a blanket.

"Dick," Tim said quietly, catching both of the older teens' attention. Wally startled, like he'd forgotten that Tim was even there, but Dick just let his gaze settle on Tim, waiting. "Dick, maybe you should sleep some more. You haven't gotten more than an hour since the breakout."

Wally choked. "The breakout was _Monday,_ Dick!"

Dick shrugged, the anger from before barely a distant memory. "The breakout was massive. And with most of the heavy hitters still out there, there hasn't been any time."

"Time to _sleep?!"_

"Time to do anything except try to minimize as much damage as possible," Tim told Wally softly. "Gotham's criminals aren't exactly sane."

"Is that why you haven't been answering any of Artemis' calls?" Wally asked, and Tim was impressed at the lid he'd put on his anger. "Or why you're ignoring M'gann, Kaldur, and Conner? They've all been worried about you, you asshole."

"Yeah?" Dick sighed, his shoulders hunching slightly towards his face. "Because the last time Conner and I talked, it didn't exactly go so well. And M'gann is still upset that I didn't tell her the plan."

"M'gann feels like she was just as much to blame, as stupid as that is, and Kaldur and Artemis were in on it," Wally countered. "They agreed to every part of it. So why ignore them?"

"I'm not ignoring anyone, Wally."

And he hadn't been. Well, not on purpose. He answered every phone call that came his way, even when most didn't turn out too well. Just, sometimes Dick wasn't able to get to his phone, especially when fighting or working on a case. But Tim knew he never called them back if he missed the call.

Wally threw his hands up in frustration, working his way towards anger once again. "Really? Is that not what you're doing? You're not hiding yourself behind the emotional brick wall that is Batman? You told me you didn't want to become him, and now you're practically throwing yourself at the cape!"

"I told you that in confidence!" Dick yelled right back, looking for all intents and purposes like he was barely keeping himself from bolting from the room. But Dick was never one to run from a fight once he was facing it. "I told you that thinking you'd support me! Not throw it back in my face six years later!"

"Gah- _Look_ , Dick," Wally growled. "I'm trying my best to understand just what the hell you've done to yourself, but I honestly don't get this! Why are you doing this to yourself?!" Dick didn't say anything. " _Dick,_ I swear to-"

"Because it's all my fault!"

Silence hung between the three of them at Dick's outburst, and Dick just dropped his face into his hands. Tim stared at Dick, because _of course_ that was what was going through Dick's head. He still felt guilty over Kaldur's fake defection and Artemis' fake death. It had crawled underneath his skin, wormed its way into Dick's head, and now he was trying to make up for it through the only way he knew how—silently pushing himself closer and closer to the edge without complaint.

Tim recovered first. "What-?"

"Everyone was so mad at me," Dick said, cutting Tim off. "They were so upset that I hadn't told them the plan. And- And you were gone, Wally. The moment Bruce found out, he chewed me out so hard."

Tim wanted to punch something. Preferably Bruce's face. Because Bruce had yelled at Dick for doing the best he could do under the weight of responsibility Batman had pushed on him. But with Batman, it was always _you can do better than that, be better, do it right next time or don't do it at all._ There was never any _good job_ or _you did what you had to_.

Surging forward, Tim wrapped his arms around his brother. Dick had been dealing with so much, and watching Dick break down like this, realizing what he'd been doing to himself, was heart wrenching. Dick returned the hug, and Tim pretended like he couldn't feel Dick shaking.

He just wanted Dick to be alright again.

Wally looked lost. "Dick-"

"I wanted out," Dick continued, like Wally hadn't even spoken. "I put so many people in danger."

Tim could practically hear Bruce speaking in Dick's words, and Tim hugged his brother even tighter.

"You're talking about Artemis and Kaldur," Wally said.

Dick laughed humorlessly. "I'm talking about the _entire team,_ Wally. Everyone! You and Artemis quit, but I still dragged both of you back every time I couldn't handle it on my own. I sent the team on dangerous missions while I sat back in the Cave and pretended that it was for the best. I faked Artemis' death to ensure Kaldur had enough trust from Black Manta."

"Dick, we all-"

"If you can look me in the eye and tell me that what I did didn't endanger everyone with every decision I made, you can finish that sentence."

Wally didn't respond, and Tim felt like this was all spiralling out of control. How did this even happen? How did they get to this point, where they couldn't even hold a conversation without yelling and feeling guilty and crumbling to pieces?

Tim reluctantly let go of Dick in order to face him properly, taking in a deep breath. He had to fix this.

"Dick, you've made mistakes. We all do it. It's called being human, and I don't think that you _wanted_ to put people in danger."

"I should have done something different," Dick argued weakly."

"Would have, should have, could have," Tim said. "It's a part of the job, Dick. We all understand that, so don't feel guilty for trying to do the right thing."

Dick choked. "I didn't _tell_ anyone-"

"Then next time, trust us a little more. Let us in on the secret. But don't blame yourself for doing something you thought was right at the time."

Dick didn't say anything, but he wasn't crying, and he wasn't shaking anymore. Wally looked like he didn't know where to go from there, and honestly, Tim didn't either, but he wasn't about to let that stop him from trying to take care of his big brother.

"Alfred's going to be home soon," Tim said, checking the time. _4:37_ pm _._ "And then he's going to kick us all out of the kitchen."

Dick swallowed and nodded. "Did he say what's for dinner?"

Tim shrugged. "Probably something rich in nutrients. He's been worried about you, too."

Blowing out a large breath, Dick placed a heavy hand on Tim's shoulder. "Well, he better join the club before membership fills up. Between you two, M'gann, Conner, Artemis, and Kaldur, the roster's filling up quickly."

It was a poor attempt at humor, especially by Dick's standards, but the way that Dick's lips quirked up into a small smile (something Tim hadn't seen in days) made Tim grin back. Wally just kind of raised his eyebrows at them.

Dick turned to the speedster. "Are you planning on staying for dinner?"

"Are you kidding?" Wally asked, and finally, _finally,_ he looked ready to back off. "You're asking me if I'm staying for _Alfred's cooking?"_

Tim's grin grew alongside Dick's, and while the tension wasn't completely gone, and nothing was completely okay, Tim thought that maybe, soon, it would be.


End file.
